TS Eliot daubed his face green; Hemingway stood on the worn skin of a lesser kudu, while F Scott Fitzgerald insisted that a skinful made his prose flow beautifully. What strange habits do you have when you’re writing?

It has divided the critics, who have either praised it for its exuberant, operatic, roaring approach to its material – or derided as a crass, tin-eared rendering of F Scott Fitzgerald's precisely tuned text.

TS Eliot daubed his face green; Hemingway stood on the worn skin of a lesser kudu, while F Scott Fitzgerald insisted that a skinful made his prose flow beautifully. What strange habits do you have when you’re writing?